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Fills The air around with beauty.
Lord Byron
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Lord Byron
Age: 36 †
Born: 1788
Born: January 22
Died: 1824
Died: April 19
Autobiographer
Baron Byron
Diarist
Librettist
Lyricist
Military Personnel
Playwright
Poet
Politician
Translator
Writer
London
England
George Gordon Byron
George Gordon Byron
6th Baron Byron
Noel Byron
Xhorxh Bajroni
Bajron
George Gordon
Jerzy Gordon Byron
Pai-lun
Baron Byron George Gordon Byron
6th Baron Byron George Gordon Noel
Byron
George Gordon Byron
Baron Byron
6th Baron Byron George Gordon Byron
George Gordon Noël Byron Byron
Bayrěn
Payrěn
George Gordon By
Beauty
Around
Fills
Air
More quotes by Lord Byron
I depart, Whither I know not but the hour's gone by When Albion's lessening shores could grieve or glad mine eye.
Lord Byron
Eternal Spirit of the chainless Mind! Brightest in dungeons, Liberty! thou art, For there thy habitation is the heart-- The heart which love of thee alone can bind And when thy sons to fetters are consign'd-- To fetters and damp vault's dayless gloom, Their country conquers with their martyrdom.
Lord Byron
It is when we think we lead that we are most led.
Lord Byron
Next to dressing for a rout or ball, undressing is a woe.
Lord Byron
Champagne with its foaming whirls/As white as Cleopatra's pearls.
Lord Byron
The simple Wordsworth . . . / Who, both by precept and example, shows / That prose is verse, and verse is merely prose.
Lord Byron
Kill a man's family, and he may brook it, But keep your hands out of his breeches' pocket.
Lord Byron
It is useless to tell one not to reason but to believe you might as well tell a man not to wake but sleep.
Lord Byron
Sweet is revenge-especially to women.
Lord Byron
He who grown aged in this world of woe, In deeds, not years, piercing the depths of life, So that no wonder waits him.
Lord Byron
Your thief looks Exactly like the rest, or rather better 'Tis only at the bar, and in the dungeon, That wise men know your felon by his features.
Lord Byron
Eat, drink and love...the rest is not worth a nickel
Lord Byron
Better to sink beneath the shock Than moulder piecemeal on the rock!
Lord Byron
Earth! render back from out thy breast A remnant of our Spartan dead! Of the three hundred grant but three, To make a new Thermopylæ!
Lord Byron
But words are things, and a small drop of ink, Falling like dew, upon a thought, produces That which makes thousands, perhaps millions, think.
Lord Byron
A quiet conscience makes one so serene.
Lord Byron
Tyranny Is far the worst of treasons. Dost thou deem None rebels except subjects? The prince who Neglects or violates his trust is more A brigand than the robber-chief.
Lord Byron
I loved my country, and I hated him.
Lord Byron
The French courage proceeds from vanity
Lord Byron
And I would hear yet once before I perish The voice which was my music... Speak to me!
Lord Byron